


Unfathomable

by AlaxxisSade



Series: Unpredictable: Spin-offs [1]
Category: Original Work, Unpredictable - Fandom
Genre: Adoption, Gen, M/M, Sequel, Unpredictable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlaxxisSade/pseuds/AlaxxisSade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how different I am, there are some things that remain the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfathomable

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to post this in gratitude for the 100 views Unpredictable got, but I was delayed... Ah, well, enjoy this sneak peek of their happy ever after(?)!

Sydney stared at the shoes on the porch, took a deep breath and put on his cheeriest voice. It sounded like he had eaten a chipmunk for breakfast.

                “K-Kris! You’re back!”

                The man on the couch looked up from his papers, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. “Yes, I noticed. Something the matter?”

                After three years of being together, Sydney had gotten used to seeing Kris sitting on his usual seat looking like he belonged there, but he hadn’t gotten used to the fact that he could have gotten used to something like that. Neither did he appreciate how even his thoughts could turn incoherent at the sight of him.

                Although whether that was because of Kris or the thing he was hiding behind his back, even he didn’t know.

                Kris glanced at him again and sighed, folding up the paper. The business section would have to wait. “Okay, what is it this time?”

                “Don’t make it sound like I do this all the time,” Sydney fidgeted guiltily, “because I really don’t—but Kris-I-found-something-on-the-street-and-felt-really-bad-so-can-we-pretty-pretty-please-keep-‘em?”

                “Talking fast won’t help, you know. And you do do this all the time.”

                “It’s different this time,” Sydney pouted. “So is it a yes or no?”

                “By different you mean you got a Shitzu instead of a Chihuahua?” Kris sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “You know we barely have enough time to take care of ourselves, so you better hand it over before you get attached and it dies on you a--”

                “I won’t let that happen to this one! Really!”

                Kris looked up silently, studying Sydney who was already obviously regretting his outburst. Sydney used to be the most detached person he knew, and that was saying something. His recent habit of picking up strays had seemed so uncharacteristic Kris had actually been worried at first… but then again, he could get used to this new side of Sydney. At least it meant he was willing to commit to something other than—well, Kris.

                “If you really feel that strongly about it… Do as you wish.”

                “…You’ll help, right?”

              Kris was just about to go back to the news when Sydney threw him another bombshell. Sydney, asking him for help? Of his own accord?

                That was when he started feeling a little uneasy, but what little hesitation he had vanished the moment Sydney turned his big eyes pleadingly at him.

                “…I’ll try.” But really, what could make him forgo his pride and ask—

                “Great! Then it’ll be easier for us to get through the adoption procedures, right?” Normally Sydney sounding so happy would be enough for Kris to ignore the actual words he had said, but this—

                Sydney finally brought out the worn wicker basket from behind his back, allowing Kris and the baby boy inside to stare at each other for the first time.

 

I think that was the first and only time I’d seen Kris at a loss for words, making a memorable moment that much more unforgettable. To be honest it wasn't a very accurate first impression of the man I would be calling my father, but at least it was a funny one.

                How had things ended up that way, even I did not know. Then again, there were a lot of things I didn’t know, things that a month-old baby should rightly know.

                In unfair exchange, I knew a lot of other things no ordinary child my age should know.

                For example, I even knew that I shouldn’t know these things even back then, and I had no idea what I _was_ supposed to know. Surely no other baby would be able to stare calmly at its mother while she tried to abandon it by the roadside. Surely no other baby would be able to understand why.

                Or maybe, simply my knowing was the reason she’d decided to give me up in the first place?

                Surely no other baby would invoke fear in its mother’s expression, barely a month after it was born.

                And surely no other baby would know all of the above, and still forgive what she had done.

                I had just hoped that she could see that forgiveness in my eyes before she walked out of my life, or what little would remain of it.

                “Hey… what are you doing?”

                Surprisingly, she hadn’t gotten far before she was stopped by the single most beautiful person I’d seen in my month-long life, and even in the many other lifetimes’ worth of memories that weren’t mine but I  had anyway. That flowing red hair, flawless skin, expressive eyes now narrowed with contempt and suspicion—

                “That’s your kid, isn’t it?”

                She stared at the stranger, looking even more terrified than she had when she was looking at me. “N-no! H-he’s not mine!”

                Those beautiful eyes narrowed even further until they were barely more than long-lashed slits. “Then whose is he?”

                “—The devil! He’s the devil’s spawn!”

                Ah. It was as times like these I wished I was like any other baby. Even though it was perfectly acceptable, even understandable that she would feel that way, the words still hurt, coming from my own mother.

                By then I was already feeling a little uncharitable towards the beautiful stranger, whose meddling had prevented what should have been a quick and painless separation. As such, I was ready to kick up a fuss when he walked over to my basket and leaned over me.

                The yells died in my throat the moment I saw that face up close, and that silky red hair brushed my nose. I sneezed, grabbing a tiny fistful away from my face and giggling before I could think too much about it.

                For the first time since I’d been born, I’d acted like a real human baby.

                Those eyes had widened from slits to saucers, and then melted back to their normal size. “Hey, woman. I could bring you to the station and book you for child neglect right now, you know.”

                Don’t pick on my mom… but staring at those eyes, somehow I couldn’t find it in me to muster up any sort of anger. This person was kind, I just somehow knew, just like I somehow knew a lot of things I shouldn’t. Just like I sort of knew what he was going to say next before he said it.

                “…But I won’t do that, not if you hand him over to me, and promise to let go of any right you have over him. I’ll even pay you for him. As long as after that, he never sees you ever again.”

                He was taking me. My mother was abandoning me, but he was taking me back. At first I couldn’t believe it—do people like this really exist? But it was a stupid question, and a question I already knew the answer to.

                They do. And I was lucky enough to meet one of them.

                And then I was scared. What if he figured it out too, the reason my mother didn’t want me? What if he realized how different I was to other babies, and then decided he didn’t want me after all? The thing about knowing too much, is that you still never know enough. The questions don’t stop.

                Why did he want me? Was it even right for him to take me? Would his family agree? It was only after he brought me to his home that I realized he only had one other family to speak of, the man named Kris.

                It was only then that I found out the name of the stranger-who-was-no-longer-a-stranger—Sydney.

                Sydney. I mouthed the name again, silently, liking the way it felt on my tongue.

                After that confrontation with Kris, I got a few more answers. No, his family did not mind, not as long as he was willing to shoulder responsibility for me. Yes, he could do it, although whether it was legal or not was not up to a month-old baby to think about.

                When Kris met my eyes, it was as though we saw through each other in an instant. He knew I was different, although maybe not exactly how different. Not exactly, but close enough. And I knew immediately that he didn’t particularly like the idea of me in their family, but as long as Sydney liked it, he could make himself like it. He could make himself like me.

                Although maybe it was harder to make him trust me, just as it was hard for me to trust him quite the same way I trusted Sydney.

                Which, in itself, is inexplicable. Why had I trusted Sydney? Why do I still trust him? He had bought me off my mother. He had lied to his partner about how he came across me. Not that Kris didn’t know that. No matter how you look at it, he was acting spectacularly suspicious.

                And yet, I was not the least bit scared of him, or what he might to do to me.

                His eyes were as clear and innocent as I wish mine were, and I got another answer. He didn’t know how I was different. And he thought he knew why I was abandoned. There was pain in his expression, as though my mother’s words and reasons had hurt him too. So he was the same as me?

                No, I corrected myself. He was nothing like me. He was loved. He was pure.

                The part of me that had risen higher than I’d ever thought possible at the idea of such a nice new family fell again. He pitied me. He saw me as something he needed to protect. So what would happen when he found out I was perfectly capable of protecting myself?

                I closed my eyes and tried to turn away from him.

                “Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice was full of worry, something that was both new and fearsome to me. I tried to squirm further away from him, but there was only so much space in the basket. And no matter how different my mind was, my body was as normal as any other child my age. Meaning there was no way I could resist when he turned me around, and started tickling me pink.

                I laughed more that day than I had in the last month, and at the end when he’d gotten tired and was scratching me more than tickling, I continued laughing anyway, because he was laughing too. When he laughed, he was even more beautiful than I’d imagined, lovely and open and frail—

                And suddenly I understood what else it was I saw in Kris’ eyes.

                For the first time, I decided I wanted something. I wanted to feel the same things Kris felt, the emotions that flowed out of his eyes even as he fought to keep his face impassive. I wanted to know what it was like to belong to somebody, and have someone belong to me.

                I wanted to hear Sydney laugh like this, happily, forever.

                I was going to use this curse to protect his laugh. Even if I had to hide it from him, even if I would never be able to laugh as freely and honestly as he did—

                As long as he could look at me with that overwhelming love, as long as he could smile at me so sincerely, I would do anything.

 

“What should we call him?” Kris wrapped his arms around Sydney, but Sydney’s eyes were fixed resolutely on me.

                “Something cool,” he said solemnly. “Like Lion Hart.”

                …I had already decided that I loved this new parent of mine with my whole heart, but even I couldn’t say he was perfect.

                “No.” Kris rejected him firmly and decisively, which earned him some of my grudging respect.

                “But I saved him!”

                “And you’ll ruin him with a name like that. Something more normal, please.”

                “Then Dragon Hart.”

                I preferred Lion Hart, and Kris agreed.

                “So Lion Hart, it is!”

                “You can call him whatever you like in private, but we should at least give him a decent name for everyone else to remember…” Kris cradled his head in his hands, either in contemplation or pain. “…How about Len?”

                “Len.” Sydney repeated. And then his face broke into a wide grin. “Len. Len!”

                He reached over and tickled me again, and this time I laughed with real joy. Len… I like it. I like it! Finally, a name to call my own!

                “So from now on you’re Len Hart.” Kris smirked at me from between the bars of my cot, and our eyes met again. I wasn't all that fond of him, but when his gaze softened into a smile as well, it felt as though a weight had been lifted off my heart.

                “Welcome to the family, little guy.”


End file.
